Les Amants d'un Jour
by Lavender and Hay
Summary: 1922, Paris. This is the last place I expected to see you. Grace/Roland.
1. Chapter 1

**This really came out of nowhere (apart from someone saying in a review that they were worried the tag was dying out; it's so not LONG LIVE THESE BABIES etc).**

**Paris, 1922. **

The last person she would ever have expected to see in the bar of the Paris Ritz was Roland Brett, and by the look on his face, she was the very last person he had expected to see either.

"Grace? It is you. Grace, it's wonderful to see you." He took hold of her hand, kissed her knuckles.

She smiled at him as he straightened up.

"Surely I haven't changed so much?" she asked him.

It had only been four years. Only? How much had happened since then? How much had she yearned to see him? But she kept her smile pressed right up to her lips, trying to mean it.

"You look different, though," he insisted, "Your hair. You-…" her hair was bobbed neatly at the length of her jaw. His eyes took in the sight of her, her new dress, the fact that, for once, heaven forbid, Matron Carter was wearing lipstick and powder, "You look wonderful. That's not to say that you didn't-…." he added hastily, "Before."

She smiled broadly.

"It's alright," she told him, "Show me the woman who can look wonderful in standard issue uniform." She felt her own eyes glint mischievously, saw his smile widen in response, "And that headdress!"

He grinned.

"You may or may not have a point," he told her diplomatically.

"But what are you doing here?" she asked him, she wanted to know. Not long ago, he had written her a letter, and he had mentioned nothing of this.

"I could ask you the same question," he replied, before half turning, "You see that rather gruff-looking young man over there?" he asked her.

She raised her eyebrows half a touch.

"The one who looks like you?"

He turned back towards her, his face coming very close to hers, examining her expression. His lips widened a touch at her humour.

"That's my son, Alexander. It's his birthday and I thought I'd bring him over here as a treat."

"How nice," Grace replied.

"I'd love it if you would come and meet him," he told her, "Come and join us."

"I'm sorry, it's very kind," she replied, "But I can't-…"

"Grace, no, it you be no intrusion, please-…"

"No it's not that," she told him hurriedly, "Believe me, I want to. It's just, I'm waiting here for my brother. That's why I'm here, you see. He's getting married this weekend."

"I see," he replied slowly.

There was a moment's silence.

"I take it, then," he asked after a few moments, "That you'll be around for the next few days?"

She thought she knew what he was implying, what he was quietly asking.

"Yes," she told him, "I will."

"Have dinner with me, then, Grace?" he asked, "Just us?"

She paused for a second.

"I suppose Lady Brett's not on this trip with you both, then?" she asked.

"No, she's not," he replied, "I don't mind telling you, Grace, that things are not well between Lady Brett and myself."

"Oh," she replied, frowning, "I'm sorry."

"Are you?"

As they had talked he had come to stand closer to her, almost without her noticing. He was standing before her, and he asked her in a very low tone. The intimacy of his voice stirred something in her. She raised her eyes, and met the searching look he was given her.

"No," she replied, in little more than a whisper, "I'm not."

A shiver seemed to run through the pair of them, out of his body and into hers.

"Have dinner with me?" he asked her, "Promise me."

"I promise," she replied, "I promise."

**Please review if you have the time. **


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm sorry this took such a long time to update, I really really hope you like it. This is for tudorrose because I owe her so much writing.**

The light in the restaurant was low. Candles flickers on each of the table, and gaslights, mounted on the walls seemed to burn at half-light, like on old nights in the hospital. She smiled at the tablecloth at the thought. There were enough people in the restaurant for no one to notice them, not too many for them to talk quietly and still be able to hear each other.

He ordered the wine, and poured it into their glasses when it arrived.

It was a pleasing shade of dark red.

"So," he told her, "What have you been up to?"

She smiled at him incredulously.

"You want me to tell you everything I've done in the last four years?" she asked him, smiling.

"Why, is it difficult?" he asked her, "I could quite easily tell you everything I've done. Kept very bad order over the arrangements on my estate, partly because I was running a small cottage hospital in the village, partly because I was disagreeing with Hetty about how to run said estate. And that was it. Until the last few days."

"Roland-…" she murmured softly, torn between wanting to smile at the humour in his voice and pity at what he was telling her.

"At least tell me how your brother's wedding was?" he asked her.

"It was lovely," she replied, "Very quiet. It had been a long time coming."

She moved her thumb slowly around the base of her glass, without thinking about it.

"They are the best weddings," he replied quietly.

"Yes," she agreed softly.

There was silence.

"Where's Alexander this evening?" she asked him after a moment, "I hope he doesn't feel like you've abandoned him."

"Oh, definitely not. He's bound to be sick of me by now. But no, he'll be back in London by now, I expect," he replied.

"He's gone home?"

"Yes," he told her, as if it was completely apparent.

"I didn't know you were staying on after him. Are you visiting someone else?"

"Yes, I'm having dinner with you, Grace."

"No, someone else, I mean," All of a sudden it dawned on her. "You didn't have to stay just for me!" she insisted, "If I'd know, I'd-…"

"Do you imagine for a second that I didn't want to?" he asked her swiftly.

She fell silent. He asked it so steadily, and so seriously that she did not know what to say. Now that he asked her, she did not, in truth, if she dared to be honest with herself for a moment, imagine that he wouldn't want to be here with her. Particularly given what he'd said about Hetty to her a few days ago. But it was wrong of her to think of that now, and she certainly wasn't going to openly say that that was what she thought.

"I didn't know," she explained after a moment, "I just-… I didn't know. I'm very touched that you would stay here for me."

He smiled at her.

"Trust me, it's not the sacrifice you make it out to be," he told her softly, "I don't think I've looked forward to anything as much as I was looking forward to this trip since I was a very small boy. Finding out that you were here as well,-… well, I didn't feel like it was Alexander who was having his birthday, I can say that much."

"Roland," she murmured softly. His words touched her, they affected her deeply.

"I've missed you Grace," he looked at her very clearly over the two half-empty glasses of wine.

Her eyes flashed with the seriousness of her look, his honesty was striking after what felt like years of dancing around the issue that was really at hand, and she saw his gaze following the red of her lips as she raised her head swiftly to look at him.

"Roland, please," she told him very quietly, "Don't say anything you'll regret."

She needed to know that he meant what he said in the next few moments. She just needed to.

"Then we have nothing to worry about," he told her firmly, "I've been wanting to say this ever since I saw you in the Ritz bar the other night, exactly this. I love you Grace Carter," he was leaning forwards in his seat, intently, his voice low, his hands reaching for her across the table, "I've wanted you and I've wanted you, and I love you, I've loved you for years."

She watched him from across the table, her eyes full of such tremendous feeling, and surprise, and relief, almost. Gently, she reached out towards him, taking one of his hands in both of hers, caressing his fingers softly between hers, playing with them, almost.

"You're sure you're not only saying this because things with Hetty are difficult?" she asked him.

"I'm sure," he told her, "Believe me, I couldn't be more sure."

She was looking at their hands, twined together now on the white tablecloth. It looked very much as if a small smile was lingering on her lips.

"What are you thinking?" he asked her.

She raised her head, and sure enough, her smile widened.

"I'm wondering if you still want to order dinner," she told him.

A smile dawned on his face too. He shook his head.

"It can definitely wait," he assured her.

**Please review if you have the time. **


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm so sorry it's taken so long and it's such a short chapter, I had two exams today and I've basically had a full time job this week and I'm exhausted.**

They walked out quickly, down the steps, onto the street. The evening was darkening around them and lights were on in most windows. She had thrown her coat, his jacket, on hurriedly, they were both unbuttoned, fluttering a little as they walked.

"Grace," he told her softly, as she made to turn right at the end of the street, catching ahold of her hand to pull her back, "My hotel is this way," nodding to the left.

"Oh," she murmured, turning back towards him, smiling a little at her own blind haste, "Alright."

Their eyes met, she could see his singing with emotion. She took a step towards him. He was looking at her as if she was beautiful, the most beautiful thing in the world. Her lips parted. She wanted to say something, but she didn't know what. The light of the fading sun touched off the buildings and lit up his face.

And her hands had somehow slipped inside his open jacket, wrapped themselves around his body. It was their first kiss. In front of everyone and no one, on the side of a street, a street corner, in Paris. He kissed her deeply, passionately, matching her for every ounce of feeling that had been building up for the last few days- who did she think she was fooling, the last few _years _- with every thought of him.

They broke apart, she smiled up at him almost shakily and he slipped his hand into hers, not breaking eye contact.

"Hotel," he told her softly.

She nodded, squeezing his hand in reply.

"It's not far," he told her, reading her thoughts.

"Good," she replied.

He glanced back over his shoulder at her, catching her eye with some amusement, walking, pressing on, all of the time.

"I'm so in love with you," he murmured to her.

"I know," she replied, running her other hand down the inside of his arm, "I am with you."

She stroked his wrist tenderly. He slowed a little as he turned to mount the front steps of the hotel and she leant in towards him.

"I've never wanted anyone like I want you now," she whispered.

He stopped completely, standing on the step. His eyes were blazing.

"Christ, Grace," he told her, "If only I could tell you how much I want you too."

She was still holding his hand. She continued on beyond him, overtaking him, leading him now, peering back over her shoulder at him, whispering, "Show me," as she went.

**Please review if you have the time.**


	4. Chapter 4

**For tudorrose33, again, who gave me such lovely updates on my birthday. **

The door was closed, the key firmly turned in the lock. Their clothes were scattered across the floor. The bedlinen was soft and no doubt ludicrously expensive, all thrown asunder, pushed back on themselves at the foot of the bed.

Night had fallen around them, only a small few candles were lit, at the bedside. They seemed to have been kissing for hours.

Grace lay back, her body draped over one of the large silk-covered pillows. Her legs draped over Roland's lap, he sat up between her thighs, leaning forwards, kissing as much of her body as he could reach, touching her breasts tenderly with his hands. Her hair flicked backwards onto the sheets. She could feel his excitement pressing up against her buttocks, sighed as his hardness pressed against her soft flesh.

His kisses moved slowly, but undeniably downwards. His lips were soft, she could feel his tongue against her ribs.

"I love you, Grace," he murmured, his mouth moving around the curve of her hip, "I've wanted to do this for such a long time."

Her thighs tensed a little as his mouth moved down over the mound of her groin. Gently, he moved his hands over her skin, soothing her.

"I want to do this, let me do this for you."

His lips touched her and her head fell back with a moan. He seemed to breathe her in, moving closer and closer to her until his tongue was inside her, his thumbs gently holding her folds apart so that he could touch her core. The near-darkness was swimming before her eyes, the air was heavy with pleasure and heat; she writhed, he body arching off the bed, and he lapped at her, continuing to drink her in. She gave a hoarse cry from the back of her throat as she came.

By the time she had regained her senses, she was in his arms. He was cradling her tenderly, his body around hers, sheltering hers, his erection pressing a little, not insistently, against her thigh. He smiled as she met his eyes, leaning forwards to kiss her and she was not surprised to taste herself on his mouth.

"You're unbelievable," he whispered to her, his hand cupping her face softly.

"I love you," she murmured in reply, "That was wonderful."

"I'm glad," he replied, leaning up on his arms a little, kissing her again.

She groaned against his mouth, wrapping her arms gently around his neck. His hands rested softly by her sides, stroking her a little, touching her with the barest of contact, leaving her wanting more. She looked up at him steadily.

"I want to make love," she told him quietly, "I need you. Now."

His eyes shone in the dark as he leant forwards to kiss her again.

"Of course, my love," he told her in reply, "Anything for you."

He pressed kisses into her cheek, her other cheek, her brow, her neck; his hand moved to her breast, cupping it softly.

"This is the best thing to happen in my life," he told her quietly, settling between her thighs, "Being here with you."

"I know," she replied, her throat tight with emotion, "In mine too."

He kissed her once again, then moved so that he was with her. She crooned softly.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied, throatily, "I want more."

He buried his face in her neck, and gave her what she asked.

**Please review if you have the time. **


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